


For All Tomorrows

by InfiniteBreath



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Multi, Some OOcness for characterization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 10:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16473548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteBreath/pseuds/InfiniteBreath
Summary: Written for the 2018 Tumblr McSpirk Halloween Fest. Klmeri created the following prompt that inspired this fic:Leonard has a problem: he's gotten separated from the research team and, worse yet, he thinks this damnably over-sized palace is haunted. And while he couldn't swear to it, he also thinks he can hear Jim and Spock calling for him from... somewhere... which also happens to seem like nowhere. Which is far from good. Aside from being lost and stranded from his people, Leonard figures if he doesn't make it out of here, he will never be able to finish that awkward conversation with Jim and Spock wherein he finally admitted to them that he wants to turn their casual dating into a committed relationship.





	For All Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Written for Round Four of the 2018 McSpirk HolidayFest. This piece almost escaped my control, but I managed to keep it reigned in. Also, the Fallyn language is based on the Samoan language, and all words that are included in this fic were obtained from Google Translate. I apologize if the story feels rushed – I did not want to post another WIP. All that being said, I hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween!
> 
> Warnings: Some OOCness with character and series canon details. Also, this piece is not Beta read, as I currently do not have a Beta. Anyone up for the job?

Leonard shuffled through the doorway of Sickbay, muttering a curse as an intense brightness burned the lingering sleep from his eyes. He stilled his steps, pinching the bridge of his nose, and took a moment to collect himself. His body ached from exhaustion, and his brain was muggy from a mental fog he hadn’t experienced since he first joined Starfleet. It was a miracle that he had managed to find his way to Sickbay.

The walk from Jim’s quarters had been a rather long, tumultuous trek despite the quiet, empty corridors that had guided his journey. Leonard hadn’t passed a single soul as his feet glided over the taupe carpet - via the power of muscle memory alone - but he swore he had felt the eyes of every crewmember onboard boring holes into his back with every step he took.  

It wasn’t every night that the Chief Medical Officer walked out of the Captain’s quarters sporting a fresh hickey on his neck the size of Texas.

_“Bones, what about -”_

_“I swear if you stop now, Jim, you’ll be facin’ a reckonin’ you aren’t goin’ to survive!”_

_“Is that so? Well, then, I guess I better do what I must to appease your demanding, Southern sensibilities.”_

A burst of heat flared just underneath the mark, and Leonard delicately cupped his palm over the right side of his neck. He could feel the ghost of Jim’s lips on his body, the man’s arrogant breath worshiping his skin, and he couldn’t hold back the shiver of delight that rushed down his spine, igniting every nerve in his system along the way.

“Long night?”

Leonard jumped at the sound of Christine’s voice, and he just managed not to whirl around and reveal his secret. “Jesus, Christine,” he growled, carefully turning around. He kept his hand cupped tight over the side of his neck. “What in the Sam Hill are you doin’ here at this ungodly hour? And what are you wearing?”

“What, this?” Christine tittered. She fingered the bright pink skirt hugging her legs. “I’m stationed in the children’s ward today, and we’re having a dress-up party. I’m a Greek Goddess, can’t you tell?” She roved curious eyes over his hand. “Are you unwell, Leonard?”

“I’m just _fine_ , Nurse Chapel,” Leonard drawled. He shuffled toward his office and donned his medical jacket, quickly zipping it closed as her footsteps neared his space. He managed to adjust the high collar around his neck just as she turned the corner. Damn woman never gave him an ounce of privacy when they worked shifts together – her mothering instinct was potent enough to drive even the most patient of men insane. Spock could attest to that.

The thought of the pointy-eared hobgoblin made Leonard’s heart race, and he managed to catch the trembling gasp rushing from his chest with his lips before it escaped into the air, revealing the happiness he carried in his heart. It had been so long since he’d felt connected to the particular energy of the universe only few ever managed to truly sync with, the gentle light that his mama told him was rooted in God’s heart. Now, Leonard found himself surrounded by it, saturated with its warmth, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now that he was back in its presence.

_“I have always had an irrational fascination with your eyes.”_

_“Oh? Have a fancy for blue peepers, do you, Spock?”_

_“Negative, Dr. McCoy. My ‘fancy’ specifically extends to the color of your irises. I have…grown fond…of the unruly emotion contained within.”_

_“Well now, ain’t that somethin’, Spock? And here I thought emotion would be a turn-off for you.”_

_“Your assumption is far from the truth, Leonard, so very far.”_

Leonard’s eyes fluttered shut, and he could almost feel Spock’s fingertips kissing his eyelids. He always knew that Jim and Spock were going to be the death of him, but he had expected that death would come from traipsing through the wilds of some savage, alien land thirsting for blood. Leonard expected his death to be violent, and painful, and filled with so much horror his soul would be marked clear into his next three lives. Instead, his impending doom seemed to be teetering on a fine edge separating peaceful bliss and excruciating loneliness.

No matter which way the bough fell, the last thing Leonard would ever know in this life is love, so much of it he was sure his soul would be nurtured until the Second Coming wiped the universe clean.   

Death by love. Who would’ve thought Leonard McCoy was deserving of such a fate?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Leonard jumped in his skin for the second time within a ten-minute period, and he bit back a curse. “Is there some reason why you’re followin’ me, Christine? Got somethin’ to report?” he scowled.

“Do _you_?” Christine countered, eyeing the collar of his coat. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway of Leonard’s office, keeping the doors open. “You aren’t expected until Beta shift today, Dr. McCoy. Dr. M’Benga should be reporting in soon – in about fifteen minutes to be exact. Was there a change in the schedule that I’m not aware of?”

“No,” Leonard croaked. He walked over toward his desk, passing sweaty hands down the front of his coat. There was a Dermal Regenerator stored in the top drawer that he kept for his personal use – it would be a cold day in hell when he let one of his staff members treat a minor wound he could tend himself. More importantly, Leonard wasn’t one to flash his personal business in his own department, and his current situation called for immediate attention. The quicker he erased the love bite on his neck, the better.

The aching bruises hiding under his clothes were another story. Leonard wanted to watch the blood trapped in his skin turn with the seasons - blue and purple flames burning hot and bright, a fire heralding the greens and yellows of healing and growth, of roots digging deep into God’s heart, preparing for the birth of something new. Something clean. Something precious. Something loved.

“Leonard, what’s wrong, dear? You’re spacing out again…it’s so unlike you.”

“I’m just tired is all,” Leonard frowned. He cleared his throat, pushing the collar against his neck. “I still have a few patient reports to complete for the outbreak we treated on Spero.” He rubbed his temples with light fingertips. “The last patient we treated almost didn’t make it. Her body took its sweet damn time respondin’ to the drug cocktail.”

“Ah, yes, little Ayla Seris,” Christine smiled. “She’s a fighter.”

“That she is,” Leonard mused. Ayla had reached out and wrapped her hand around his index finger as she woke, a small gesture that had chased weeks of stress from his heart. She called him _Leoleo_ , a moniker Leonard came to find out later meant ‘guardian’.

He still carried the thank-you gift she’d slipped in his palm during one of her last check-ups. He’d grown rather fond of the small animal charm; a trinket Ayla had weaved out of a silky yarn. Jim thought it was a black dog, but Leonard was sure it was a cat. He’d left Spero without asking Ayla to confirm his guess – he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings.  

“Well, it’s not like Ayla had much of a choice, did she? Not with how you went out of your way every morning to gripe at her for still being asleep.”

“Yes, well, everyone else was doin’ it for their loved ones, but no one ever came to talk to Ayla. So, I took it upon myself to sit with her. Anyway, for all we know my gripin’ worked, Nurse Chapel,” Leonard groused.

Christine laughed. “Oh my, is this a new treatment therapy, Dr. McCoy? Burning the illness from a patient with a barrage of irritable complaints?”

“Well, it’d cut down on the cost of medications, that’s for damn sure. Maybe then we’d be able to experiment with improvin’ some of this machinery.”

“Dr. Leonard McCoy choosing technology over the proper dose of medications? What is this world coming to?”

Heat rushed to Leonard’s head, and he passed his hands over his face. “I’m not sayin’ technology is the answer for everythin’, but it has its merits.”

“I see,” Christine mused, pushing off the doorway. She walked toward Leonard’s desk, stopping right beside him. “Might this change of heart have anything to do with the influence of our dear Mr. Spock?”

“Now hold on there just a damn minute,” Leonard glared. “It’s my job to keep up with the changin’ times, Nurse Chapel. I _have_ read a medical journal or two since becomin’ a doctor. No matter my personal preference regardin’ treatment, I will always do what’s best for my patients.”

“Of course, sir,” Christine smiled. Sadness crept into Christine’s eyes, and the shadows drew Leonard’s gaze. He watched as she wrung her hands together for a short second before reaching out and touching his shoulder.

“The times are indeed changing, Leonard,” Christine offered, “and you’re right to grow right along with the universe.” She paused. “But you need to take care of yourself, too. You should follow a path that’s best for you."

Christine slid her hand up and touched his covered neck, right over the mark. The pressure of her touch stirred the ache nestled within the skin. The sensation spread down Leonard’s shoulders and into the center of his chest, where it burrowed into his heart like a secret wish.

“Happiness is a blessing, Leonard, and it should never be hidden.”

“Am I interrupting?”

Leonard whipped around so fast he was sure he almost tore Christine’s arm off. “Captain! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“So it seems,” Jim commented, raking his eyes over the scene before him. He tucked his arms behind his back, a defensive gesture Leonard knew all too well.

There was a guarded look in Jim’s hazel eyes that set Leonard’s nerves on edge. He hated when Jim hid behind a mask of diplomatic indifference. “What can I do for you, Jim?”

“Excuse me, sirs.” Christine nodded her head as she passed the Captain, and Leonard noted a faint smile dancing on her lips. 

Jim returned Christine’s nod and waited for her to depart before responding. He cleared his throat and steepled his hands, the heels of his palms resting against his abdomen. Leonard wasn’t quite prepared to hold the heavy gaze Jim turned loose on him. “I wanted to stop by and check up on you, Bones. You left without saying goodbye.”

Leonard stood from his chair and waved Jim into the room, wanting his office doors closed. A loud hiss confirmed their joined solitude the moment Jim stepped completely inside, and the charged atmosphere called the fine hairs lining Leonard’s nape to attention. “Well now, you and Spock were sleeping, Jim,” Leonard smiled. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Jim tilted his head, his lips upturned in the playful smirk that Leonard loved so well. “I’m sure Mr. Spock and I would’ve been all right with having our sleep disturbed. However, we do currently reside on a starship, Dr. McCoy, and we never quite know what kind of adventure life might decide to spring on us. Saying goodbye is an important ritual between friends…especially those as close as we three are.”

Leonard’s heart began to pound a staccato melody against his sternum, the rhythm a fast and furious beat of hope and love and _want_. He wasn’t quite sure what Jim was trying to say, and he didn’t know how he should respond. He decided to test the waters by airing out his blunt, Southern charm.

“Well, now, Jim-boy,” Leonard smirked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Had I known your sensibilities were so delicate, I would’ve made an effort to give you a proper farewell after our little encounter last night. I didn’t mean to give you the vapors, darlin’.” He swallowed down the ball of nervousness lodged in this throat and threw out some wild bait. “Who knew the legendary James Tiberius Kirk clutched his pearls when he’s in distress over a sweetheart?”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth, mister?” Jim chuckled.

“Only on the days that end with ‘y’,” Leonard drawled. He pushed into Jim’s space just enough to brush a hand against Jim’s hip. “But you see, Mama McCoy’s constitution isn’t as fragile as yours, Mr. Kirk, so her ears are quite used to toleratin’ language. Conversations like this are par for the course.”

“Is that right?”

“Course it is, Jim-boy. Who do you think prepped my thick hide?”

“Mama McCoy may have groomed that infamous bedside manner of yours, but her skills seem to be lacking when it comes to teaching social manners,” Jim commented, his eyes sparkling with silent mirth. There was something else burning within his golden irises, but Leonard couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“Are you insinuatin’ that I’m an uncivilized heathen, Jim-boy?”

“Well, only an uncivilized heathen would describe what occurred last night as a mere _encounter_.”

Leonard’s heart stuttered. “Well, good sir, please enlighten this ol’ so-and-so. What would you call it?”

“A beginning.”

“Well now, that’s a big declaration. Mind explainin’ what you mean?”

“Must I?” Jim mused, reaching out. He placed his hands on the sides of Leonard’s neck, resting the pads of his thumbs over the curve of his jaw. “Surely Mr. Spock and I don’t need to explain our regard for you, Bones, not after last night.”

Leonard’s lungs seized in his chest. “Now, Jim-boy,” he began, covering Jim’s hands with his own, “there’s no need to butter me up like that. If you and Spock have an itchin’ to repeat our…intricate… little tête-à-tête, just say the word.”

He wanted to strangle the tremble rustling in his voice.  “I find it quite interestin’ that you’ve talked Spock into explorin’ such risqué behavior. You go on ‘bout my scandalous Southern manner, but surely his rigid, Vulcan sensibilities are offended ‘bout havin’ to enable such base human behavior.”

“Bones,” Jim breathed, searing Leonard’s skin with a heated gaze. “Surely you know we would never engage in such activities with just anyone.” He stepped closer into Leonard’s space, sweeping a thumb over the seam of his mouth. “You really don’t know?”

The loud ping of the intercom sliced through the heaviness in the room, saving Leonard from replying. He’d never been so happy to hear Uhura’s calm, dulcet voice, but he lamented how Jim quickly slipped into command mode. He briskly stepped away from Leonard, his eyes shuttering all emotion behind an impenetrable shield of duty.

“Captain Kirk, the Enterprise is receiving a distress signal from a nearby planet – Vervain. They seem to be requesting emergency medical assistance. The message is somewhat distorted after this point, but I managed to clear up enough to ascertain that the inhabitants are suffering from an unknown disease that has downed half of the population. The message contained coordinates for a safe zone the Landing Party can utilize.”

“Understood, Uhura. Kirk out.”

Leonard started as Jim engaged his focus with a calculating gaze. “What say you, Doctor? Are you ready to tackle another plague? Or should I speak with Dr. M’Benga, give you a break?”

“Is that a serious question?” Leonard scoffed. “I’m a doctor, Jim. I’m always ready to tend to the sick.”

“Duly noted, Dr. McCoy,” Jim smiled. His eyes flicked toward the door. “Assemble a small team and meet me in the transporter room. Spock, Scotty, and I will beam down with you and your chosen few to assess the situation in the facilities while you and your crew tend to the sick.”

“I’m on it, Captain,” Leonard assured, slipping out of his lab coat. “Let me grab my go-bag and make arrangements to hand Sickbay over to Dr. M’Benga for the next few days. I’ll meet with you in about fifteen minutes tops.”  Leonard turned around to hang his coat on the back of his desk chair, and he nearly swallowed his tongue when Jim’s warmth blanketed his back.

“That’s quite the spectacular mark on your neck, Bones. You might want to take care of that before you leave your office,” Jim whispered, his breath licking a hot stipe over the curve of his ear. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying the view, but I would hate for your reputation to suffer while you are officially…unattached. Perhaps later we can discuss how to best remedy that issue for you.”

Jim pulled away before Leonard could respond, and it was a good thing he did so because he was one nanosecond from leaning back into Jim’s body, and who knows what kind of mess he’d find himself in. His office door announced Jim’s departure, and Leonard rushed over and engaged the locking mechanism. He hobbled back to his desk, dropping his weight into his chair as he quickly banished the bruise on his neck with a few passes of the dermal regenerator. His heart was on fire, the muscle contracting erratically beneath flames of shame and guilt.

Leonard wasn’t quite sure, but Jim may have just hinted the possibility that he and Spock were interested in something more than a one-time midnight rendezvous. If that was indeed the case, Leonard had responded to his proposal like a proper rake – promising future affection without making a real investment in their time together. He’d basically announced he was the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em wantin’ more’ type.

He sighed, tucking the Dermal Regenerator back into his desk drawer. Leonard growled as he slammed the drawer closed, and the cold sound of metal hitting metal rattled his head, shaking loose the dark thoughts loitering in the shadows of his insecurities. What would Jim tell Spock? The two of them would probably talk about Leonard’s reaction and chalk up the whole thing as a lucky break. Who would want to be involved with a self-centered prick?

Maybe it was better this way. It wasn’t like Leonard was the relationship type – his short marriage to Jocelyn proved that sad little truth about his character, and then there had been that fling in his youth that hadn’t ended well at all. Leonard would hate messing up one of the best friendships he’d ever known just because he lost control of his dick. He was used to being single; it was one of the easiest things he’d ever managed to accomplish, and he had no regrets.

He was better off on his own.  

 ** _Liar_**.

Leonard started in his seat. “Hello?” he called out, his voice as thin as rice paper. He was sure he’d locked the door – he hadn’t heard its signature hiss since Jim left. Silence greeted him as he scanned his office, and he rubbed his fingertips over the freshly healed skin on his neck. He could’ve sworn he heard a child speak, dubbing him a ‘liar’.

“I must be goin’ out of my damn mind,” Leonard grumbled, standing from his chair. He stalked over to the cabinet sitting against the back wall and grabbed his leather go-bag. The feel of the worn material in his hands was a balm to his spirit, giving him the strength to properly collect his thoughts. He was too damn old to be dealing with personal drama of this type. “I’m actin’ like a lovesick teenager.”

Leonard pushed all thoughts of Jim and Spock out of his head and centered his focus on the medical emergency on Vervain, which had unknowingly been waiting on him to get his shit together. He walked toward his office door and disengaged the lock, walking toward the general area of Sickbay with curt steps. Dr. M’Benga was attending to a nasty burn on an Ensign’s arm, and from the looks of it, the poor kid was probably stationed in Engineering.

Leonard cleared his throat and approached the doctor, keeping a professional distance. M’Benga paused his treatment, offering a polite nod. “Do you have a moment, Dr. M’Benga?”

“Certainly, Dr. McCoy.” He turned toward his young patient. “Hang tight, Jensen, I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Sure, Doc.”

Leonard watched Jensen lay back on the table, shivering as a sudden wave of nostalgia washed over him. Life used to be so simple when he was young – he didn’t have eyes for anything other than work, school, and taking care of his mama.

 ** _Liar_**.

“Are you all right, Leonard? You’re looking a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” Leonard croaked, swiping a hand down his mouth. “Just a bit tired, and by the sound of it, I won’t be gettin’ rest any time soon.”

“Yes, I heard about the distress signal. I take it you’re heading out?”

“You’re in charge of things ‘til I get back, Geoffrey. I’ll be takin’ Knox, Williams, and Stark down with me. Have them report to transporter room three as soon as they arrive. I need to move on ahead so that I can check the equipment. I don’t need anyone catching their death down there because of somethin’ that could’ve been prevented.”

“Will do,” Geoffrey smiled. He reached out and placed a hand on Leonard’s left shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You should take some time off when you get back, Leonard. You can’t take care of patients if you’ve worn yourself down to the nub.”

“I might take a day or two,” Leonard sighed, “dependin’ on what I find down there. There’s a good chance the entire situation’s been inflated, and I’ll have a chance to prop up my feet between treatin’ a fever or two.”

“Here’s to hoping,” Geoffry chuckled. He raised the dermal regenerator he still held in his hand in a mock toast.

Leonard snorted and started making his exit. “Make sure to keep folks in line,” he called over his shoulder, “mother-hennin’ only encourages these ruffians to take chances during their shifts.” He stepped out into the corridor without waiting for a response, and the sound of the doors closing behind him felt like someone tacking the final nail in his coffin.

The walk to the transporter room was more pleasant than the one Leonard took not too long ago. He nodded to a few crewmembers who had been relieved from Gamma shift, his steps steady with the knowledge that most of the senior staff were more than likely already at their stations. With any luck, he’d have a chance to complete his equipment check without running into Jim or Spock.

A rush of frigid air rushed past Leonard as he stepped into transporter room three. He set his bag on the floor, shaking off a shiver, and padded over to the equipment cabinet nestled against the back wall. He tugged on a large, metal case sitting on the bottom shelf, resting its heavy weight in front of his feet. Leonard crouched down and freed the hinge locks securing the lid. He pulled one of the air filtering masks from the black, polyurethane foam lining the inside of the case. A quick check ensured the mask’s filters were new, and there were no cracks in the seal holding them in place. Leonard tugged hard on the elastic headband and was satisfied to find the strap held fast against the pressure.

He set the mask back in its cushioned home and nearly jumped out of his skin when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Leonard fell back on his haunches and _just_ barely managed to contain the unmanly yell climbing up his throat. He pressed a shaky hand to his chest, glaring at the culprit who had nearly induced a heart attack.

“Are you tryin’ to kill me, Spock? I nearly dropped dead from heart failure!” Spock raised an arrogant eyebrow, coaxing a blush to bloom in Leonard’s cheeks. Leonard scowled as Spock leaned down and offered him a hand. He grudgingly accepted the assistance, rising to his feet with a slightly shaky stance. Spock’s skin was deliciously warm against his chilled palm, and Leonard ignored the heat spreading through his face and down his shoulders. A few hours ago, those powerful hands had traced every curve of his body, committing every measurement to Spock’s famous Vulcan memory.

“I fail to see how the heart of a man in his prime, who is in relatively good health, would cease functioning over a small shock.”

“A small shock?! You crept up on me like a predator stalkin’ prey, you damn hobgoblin! I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“Perhaps you should have your hearing checked, Dr. McCoy, in order to avoid a future reoccurrence of such an episode,” Spock recommended. “It would be most unbecoming for the Chief Medical Officer of the _Enterprise_ to suffer ‘a spell of the vapors’ whilst in the middle of a dignitary function.”  

Spock’s dark eyes glittered with concealed amusement, and Leonard found himself smiling despite the dread twisting in his gut. Judging by Spock’s chosen dialogue, Jim had already shared their conversation - down to the last detail. Leonard pulled his hand back, deciding to take the safe road and play this interaction with Spock by ear.

“Well now,” Leonard began, dusting off his backside, “I’ve been accused of many things, Mr. Spock, but never have I been described as havin’ a weak constitution.”

“My apologies, Doctor,” Spock offered, tilting his head. He tucked his arms behind his back, and Jim’s face flashed in Leonard’s mind. “It was not my intention to insult you. I am simply concerned about your well-being. Are you well, Dr. McCoy?”

And there it was – Spock’s offer of an opening to discuss last night’s events. Leonard cleared his throat, pressing his fingers against his neck. “I’m fine, Spock,” he assured, “just performin’ a routine equipment check before we beam down.”

“I see,” Spock noted. “Is everything up to code?”

“Well, I only managed to check one mask before your little assassination attempt.”

“I will assist you with the equipment check. I would like to make amends for causing you to suffer an unexpected bout of panic.”

“Well now, ain’t that chivalrous of you, Mr. Spock. Do you often go around offerin’ your services to crewmembers you intimidate with that thick, Vulcan hide of yours?” Spock stepped into Leonard’s space, his body heat pushing out the chill from Leonard’s skin. Leonard licked his lips as Spock raised a steady hand and ran the tips of two fingers down the side of his face.

“Only those who hold my fascination, Dr. McCoy,” Spock declared, offering Leonard a warm gaze.

“Is that so,” Leonard breathed. His traitorous hand raised itself of its own volition and wrapped around Spock’s wrist.

“Jim mentioned that perhaps you are unaware of our regard for you, Leonard, despite the time we shared together. I can see that his assessment of the situation is correct. Fascinating.”

“What are you sayin’, Spock?” Leonard murmured, searching Spock’s eyes.

“Need I remind you about last evening’s events? Such intimacies only take place between those who are connected beyond mere physical attraction.”

“Is this your idea of sweet talk?”

“Would you welcome such discourse as sweet talk, Leonard?”

“I – I – I can’t, I don’t -”

 ** _LIAR_**!

Leonard shot sideways, pulling away from Spock. He scanned the room with wild eyes, pressing a shaky hand to his mouth. The voice sounded as if someone had yelled right in his ear, but there was no one in the room with him and Spock.

The doors to the transporter room opened before Spock could respond to his bizarre reaction, and Leonard found himself simultaneously torn and relieved. He straightened his posture as his crew walked in, smoothing his shirt with trembling hands. “Gentlemen,” he greeted. He was amazed at how steady his voice sounded. “Finish up the equipment check while we wait for the Captain to arrive with Mr. Scott.”

“Aye aye, sir,” the trio called out. Leonard supervised as they checked each mask, blatantly ignoring the heavy stare pinned to his back. Jim and Scotty arrived about ten minutes later, a lanky transportation technician trailing behind the pair. The young man wore a sorrowful expression, and it was clear to everyone in the room that he had just received a tongue-lashing regarding prompt presence when reporting in for a shift.

Jim swept his eyes over the room, locking his gaze with Spock. “Is everything in order, Mr. Spock?” The double meaning of that question didn’t escape Leonard’s notice.

“Dr. McCoy and his team have just completed their equipment inspection, Captain. It is safe to presume that all parties are prepared to approach the matter at hand when prompted.”

Hazel eyes pinned Leonard in place, securing his complete focus. “I’m happy to hear it,” Jim offered, his lips turned upwards in one corner. “Now, Dr. McCoy, if you’ll dispense the equipment, we can be on our way.”

“Of course, Captain,” Leonard acknowledged. He walked over and picked up a couple of masks, motioning for Stark to assist with the distribution. “You need to make sure to completely cover your face, fastening the straps securely around your noggins – don’t remove them until we get back on the ship. I don’t need anyone dyin’ on my watch just ‘cause they were too foolish to not follow instructions.”

He stepped toward Jim, a mask hanging on the fingers of his outstretched hand. “ _You_ especially need to make sure to take every precaution when we beam down. With your luck, you’ll trigger an allergy I don’t know anythin’ about and die a painful death in the middle of nowhere.”

“Perhaps it would ease your mind to install the mask on my person, Bones. I can’t have my CMO distracted while attending to a medical emergency.”

“I’m a doctor, not a personal attendant,” Leonard grumbled. He shuffled closer and slid the mask over Jim’s face, adjusting it appropriately before securing the strap around his head. He ran his fingers along the seal framing the lens, double checking that the seam was secured. The tips of his fingers slid along the ends of Jim’s hair, and Leonard swallowed around the lump sitting in his throat.

“There,” he declared, stepping back. “Now don’t say I’ve never done anythin’ for you.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jim chuckled, the sound muffled behind the mask.

Leonard rolled his eyes and walked over toward Spock. “I suppose you’ll be needin’ assistance as well, Mr. Spock?”

“I’m capable of attending to the matter myself, Doctor,” Spock intoned, slipping the mask over his face. “However, I would not be opposed to an inspection, for your sake, of course,” he continued in a muted voice. “I would not want to induce another attack on your human sensibilities.”

“Careful, Mr. Spock. Ye dinnae want to poke the doctor when he’s nahcerd.”

“That’s enough sass from both of you,” Leonard groused, doing a quick inspection. His pinky finger grazed the shell of Spock’s ear, and something flip-flopped in Leonard’s stomach at Spock’s hushed inhale. He took a step back, avoiding eye contact. “You’ll survive.”

“Gentlemen, if you’re all set, it’s time we were on our way,” Jim commanded. He turned and hopped onto the nearest transporter pad, gazing down at his crew with a fond gaze. Leonard slipped on a mask, grabbed his go-bag, and took his place to Jim’s right, feeling some of his anxiety fall away as Spock moved to stand at Jim’s left. Mr. Spock and his medical crew stepped behind them, and for a moment, life was business as usual.

“Whenever you’re ready, Ensign.”

Leonard closed his eyes as the transporter pad activated beneath his feet, and he braced himself for the sensation of being disassembled. The feeling washed over his system like a humid breeze stirring up the heat of an angry, summer day. Panic filled his thoughts, and Leonard acknowledged his old friend with a mental nod. The heat faded as quick as it had appeared, and Leonard opened his eyes, releasing his breath.

Darkness greeted him, and he turned toward Jim for guidance. “Jim, what in the Sam Hill is -”

Jim wasn’t beside him, and Spock was absent, too. Leonard whirled around, feeling ice fill his veins when his eyes fell on empty space. “Jim! Spock! Where are you?” he called out. “Mr. Scott, can you hear me? Knox! Stark! Williams! Are you here?”

Leonard’s only response was silence. He reigned in his shock and activated his tricorder, cursing as he realized his medical bag was nowhere in sight. His scan of the environment picked up no life signs nearby, which set his nerves on edge. Either the transporter had malfunctioned and shipped him off into the unknown, or they had beamed down directly into a trap. He tucked his tricorder away and pulled out his phaser, setting it on stun.

“Of all the damn things to happen – _today_ of all days.” He sighed, pulling out a flashlight from his bag, and began to map his surroundings to memory. The room he had materialized in was made of stone units, and judging from the size of it, Leonard was in a damn castle. There were no light fixtures or furniture, and the lone window sitting near the back of the room framed a dark pane of stained glass that blocked out most of the light fighting to gain entrance into the room.

The walls were coated with a light sheen, and he approached the nearest one with small steps. The dank smell of mold grew sharper with every step that he took, and he noted that there were thin ribbons of water cascading down from the roof, pooling between the bricks lining the floor. “Where the hell did that fool Ensign send us?” he breathed, stepping back toward the center of the room.

Leonard sighed. “Well, I just can’t stay here waitin’ for someone to find me like some damsel in distress. Spock would never let me hear the end of it.”

A loud clang sounded outside of the open doorway, and the scream of metal beating stone bounced off the ceiling, smacking the wet bricks lining the room. Leonard sprinted toward the doorway and pressed his body tight against the wall, wincing as wetness seeped into his shirt, phaser at the ready. Beads of sweat pushed through his pores and spilled across his forehead, clinging tight to his eyebrows.

“This is not good,” Leonard gulped, steadying his nerves. So far, he’d been separated from his teammates and stranded in Dracula’s castle, and now there was someone, or some _thing_ , skulking about, and he was going to have to confront it. “Oh, merciful heavens this is not good at all.” He took in three cleansing breaths and rounded the corner, aiming his phaser directly ahead of his center.

Darkness and silence welcomed Leonard as he passed through the doorway, and he released a shaky exhale. He scanned the corridor, but there was nothing notable to be concerned about. The center of the chipped, stone floor was lined with a great length of rotted carpet the color of dried blood, the frayed edges spread out toward the base of the walls like desiccated veins. Large, wooden doors lined the entire length of the long hall, a scenic homage to classic horror movies that stirred the dread bubbling in his gut.

Fear reached out from a dark corner high in the leaky ceiling and raked sharp claws across the back of Leonard’s neck, the serrated tips wading through the ocean of goose bumps that had erupted on his skin. There was something off about this place, lurking in the shadows like a hungry ghost, and Leonard was beginning to think that maybe he should’ve just stayed in bed. Only, he’d woken up in _Jim and Spock’s bed_ , a little fact sitting on the lid of a different can of worms he wasn’t ready to think about.

“Bones! Bones, where are you? Can you hear me?”

Relief swept through Leonard’s system, leaving him dizzy from the sensation. “Jim!” he replied, rushing down the hallway. “Jim, I’m here! Where are you?”

“Bones!”

Jim’s voice seemed to be coming from one of the doors in the center of the hallway, and his voice sounded clear, which meant one of two things. Either Jim had taken off his mask – which wouldn’t surprise Leonard one bit – or someone had removed it for him, leaving Jim exposed to God knows what. Leonard swallowed hard, licking his lips. He had no choice but to go exploring, and there was no knowing what he was going to find behind the closed doors. He muttered a curse and shuffled over toward a random door on his right.

“Jim!” He called out, wrapping his hand around the iron doorknob. “Jim are you in there?”

“Bones! I need you!”

The declaration made Leonard’s brain stutter. “Jim! Are you hurt? Didn’t I tell you to be careful?” he chastised. He readied his phaser and turned the doorknob. “I’m comin’ in, Jim, just wait for me!”

“Bones, please!”

Leonard inhaled and pushed the door open, aiming his phaser as he rushed in. He was immediately assaulted by the smells of baked ham and caramelized sugar, and his mouth fell open as he took in the unexpected, domestic scene before him. The phaser fell from his limp hand, landing on the floor with a heavy thud.  

“Lenny Ray! Where’ve you been, bug? Supper’s almost ready.”

“M-mama Lea?”

Eleanora giggled, sauntering toward him with graceful steps. Her long, chestnut hair hung loose around her elfin face, dark curls framing the sharp, noble cheekbones Leonard loved so well. She examined the mask on his head, chuckling as she reached out and freed Leonard from its grasp. “What is this strange contraption?” she mused, carefully dropping it on the floor. The mask landed near the phaser and was instantly forgotten.

She shook her hands before cupping his jaw, and the weight of her delicate fingers against his skin was as light and gentle as the kiss of cicada wings. “You’re lookin’ so pale, honey. Are you all right?” Eleanora released his face and took him by both hands. “Come on, bug, let’s sit a spell.”

Tears filled Leonard’s eyes, and he allowed himself to be led to the humble, oak table resting by the picture window he knew his mother adored. A Lazy Susan sat in the center of the table’s sturdy, naked face, the cedar board littered with the usual fare of spices and a small wire holder filed with heavy, cloth napkins. There were four small, dark holes marking the place setting directly facing the window, and Leonard shuddered as he recalled his father stabbing his dinner fork into the innocent wood during a fit of anger. Leonard had never spilled another glass at the dinner table after that night.

The entire scene was right out of his childhood, complete with the pale-yellow curtains dressing the large window, the billowy material hanging delicate and pretty like the majestic skirt of a debutante. The white lace trimming the cotton fabric was sheer and iridescent, a physical manifestation of Eleanora’s gentle heart. Leonard was instantly overcome with a warm sensation of _home_ that flooded his senses to the brim, drowning the lingering dread racing through his veins.

“Jesus wept,” he breathed.

“Oh, Lenny Ray! You’re becomin’ a master of the theatrics,” Eleanora tittered. “You get that from your Grandmama Jean.” She ushered Leonard into his assigned seat before sitting at the opposite end of the table, tucking her legs under her backside. She propped her chin in her right palm and gave Leonard a playful wink. “Your daddy ain’t here, so we can be comfortable. Now, tell your mama why your tail feathers are knotted and sticking out in all directions. Don’t tell me you’re still pinin’ over that Marsh girl!”

“Sue Ellen?”

“Yes, that one. Oh, baby boy, that girl was a fool for steppin’ out on you with the Hickman louse,” Eleanor drawled. She turned the Lazy Susan and reached out, snagging a pink dinner mint from her prized sunflower dish. She popped the treat in her mouth and tucked it in her right cheek. “Sue Ellen inherited the infamous Marsh madness, poor girl. I swear her bloodline is descended straight from black holes – her daddy’s more unstable than a grizzly bear hopped up on steroids!”

Leonard laughed, the humor pulled straight from his heart. It’d been a long time since he’d really let loose and laughed, and he felt a bit lightheaded when he finally ran out of lung power. “I love you, Mama,” he breathed.

“Lenny Roy,” Eleanor smiled, tipping her chin down with a teasing flare. “Every mother in this galaxy knows those three words are a child’s way of sayin’ ‘I’m sorry’. Where’ve you been? What’ve you been up to, bug?”

The question jarred Leonard’s brain, dusting off some of the fuzz. The future raced through the past to catch up with the present, and the speed of the journey shocked Leonard’s heart. Jim and Spock were trapped along with him somewhere in Dracula’s castle, as well as Scotty and his medical crew, and the clock was running. Leonard had to get to them before the thing stalking the hallways caught up to them. Whoever set up this dream, whatever it was meant to do, it was time he took his leave.

Leonard prepared himself to do just that, to offer his mother’s shade a quick goodbye, but what came out of his mouth was, “I went to space.”

“Oh, sounds excitin’,” Eleanor squealed. She took a sip from a tall glass of sweet, iced tea that had manifested from thin air. “Have you made any friends?”

“Sure have; the best kind anyone could ever know,” Leonard smiled, taking a sip of his own tea. The cool liquid washed over his tongue like silk, and he smacked his lips as he set his lips down. It’d been a long time since he’d had a glass of proper sweet tea – it was the Southern secret ingredient that did the trick.  

“I’m happy to hear it. You’ve never had a problem with speakin’ your mind, bug, but makin’ friends was never your forte. You’re just so shy – I swear every time someone tried talkin’ to you, you’d fly away like a June bug hidin’ from the night! Now, tell me a little bit about your friends, Lenny!”

“Well, Jim’s, he’s, well _Jim_. He’s a smart cookie, tough, too, but I have to watch out for him because he always jumps before he really looks. I’ve lost sleep over his unruly antics. And Spock, well, daddy would like him – he’s very professional about everythin’ he does, right down to breathin’.” He paused, cutting a line through the condensation coating the clear glass with the tip of his index finger. “But his heart is so big and warm, Mama. When he finally let’s you in, it’s like standing in a bonfire without gettin’ burned.”

“I know that look, baby boy,” Eleanor winked, leaning forward in her seat.

“What look?”

“Well, the one you’re wearing on your face right now, bug,” she giggled. “That glow in your eyes is a telltale sign of bein’ love struck.”

Heat flooded Leonard’s face. “I - no - Mama, what -”

“Dr. McCoy! Can you hear me?”

“Bones!”

“Spock! Jim!”

“Oh!” Eleanor gasped, bouncing in her seat as she clapped her hands. “Your sweethearts are callin’ on you, bug! You best be goin’ now before they start thinkin’ you flew away.” She jumped from her chair and rushed toward Leonard, planting a tender kiss on top of his head. Her gardenia perfume wafted around him like a blanket, soothing his frazzled nerves.

“Get up!” she squealed, tugging on Leonard’s arm. “You don’t want them gettin’ away now, do you?”

“What? No, Mama Lea, but -”

Leonard allowed Eleanor to pluck him from his seat and walk him toward the door. Eleanor fixed his hair and ran her hands over his shoulders, smoothing out his shirt. “You ready, bug?”

“Mama, wait -”

“You look ready,” she proclaimed, her expression sobering. “But there’s somethin’ I need you to promise me.”

Leonard stilled. “What’s that?”

“Love is a precious thing, Lenny – you should never turn from it, or waste it, if you’re lucky to find it. That moment when it blooms inside you, when you can trace the root back to God’s heart, well, you need to cherish that moment, baby. Hold on tight, and don’t _ever_ let go. I want you to be happy. I need to know your days are going to be filled with light. Can you do that for me, bug?”

“I promise, Mama.”

“That’s my boy,” she cooed, patting his chest. The sound of a car pulling up into the driveway broke the peace of the moment, setting Eleanor into a light frenzy. “Your daddy’s car’s growlin’ outside, and I still haven’t put supper on the table.” She pulled the door open and shoved Leonard into the hallway. “Say hello to your sweethearts for me, honey!” she called out, blowing Leonard a kiss.

The door closed on Leonard before he was able to reply, and he stood in place for a full minute before he was finally able to move. He reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed the iron doorknob, counting to three before throwing the door open. The room was empty, save for his phaser and mask sitting in the center of the room, and the only available light came from the muted brightness streaming in through the doorway.  

Thunder boomed, the force of the sound shoving Leonard into the dim room against his will. He stumbled backwards, pressing a hand to his heart as he caught his footing. He eyed the distance between him and his equipment and compared it to the distance between him and the door. He was close enough to make a quick escape, but he’d be left defenseless without his phaser. Whatever protection the mask offered him was gone now that he was exposed, but he’d be damned if he left behind perfectly functional equipment that could save someone else. If anything, Starfleet would salvage it when they stumbled across his cold, dead body.

“Dr. McCoy! I’ve located the Captain! Can you hear me?”

“Bones! Call out if you can!”

“Spock! Jim! I’m here!” Leonard shouted, steeling his nerves. He rushed over to his equipment and snatched his phaser and mask from the floor, praying that the door stayed open behind him. The air in the hallway felt charged when he flew out the doorway, and it held him firmly in place. He pressed his forehead against the cool, wet stone, taking a moment to catch his breath. The back of Leonard’s neck prickled, signaling the presence of company – and not the good kind.

“Good grief, now what?” Leonard panted, gripping his phaser. A low growl rumbled behind him in the distance, rattling his bones.

Leonard’s head whipped up as a loud pounding noise shook a door near the end of the hallway. He locked his gaze on the target, gnashing his teeth, and sprinted down the hallway as fast as his feet could carry him.

“Dr. McCoy! We require assistance!”

Spock’s voice was strong despite being muted by the door’s thickness. Leonard skidded to a halt in front of the door, “I’m here, Spock, move away from the door!” He turned the handle, ready to push inside, but he was shocked to find the door locked. He growled, jiggling the doorknob in frustration. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud!”

The sound of claws raking across stone stroked Leonard’s eardrums, the eerie noise silky and demanding like the raspy voice of an overeager paramour. “I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Leonard growled, staring into the darkness at the end of the corridor. His eyes were adjusted to the dark, but he still couldn’t spot any shapes in the shadows.

“Well, are you goin’ to rush in for the kill like a real beast, or are you goin’ to try and do me in by blowin’ out my eardrums?” he shouted. Silence was his response. “Argh, screw this!”

Leonard took a step back and raised his leg, stabilizing his balance so that he could kick down the door. He was probably going to break a bone or two, but he only needed one leg to stand on to fight. The owner of the claws was gaining distance, and Leonard wasted no time. He kicked the doorknob and grinned like the devil when he felt iron break free from the doorway. Leonard hurried inside and slammed the door closed behind him, pressing his weight against the damaged wood.

“Spock! Come help me hold -”

“Forget my name already, Len?”

Leonard turned his head, and the strength bled from his body as his brain identified the owner of the voice. He sagged to the floor, his body folding in on itself like a puppet with a busted string. “Sue Ellen?”

Sue Ellen rose from the antique settee that her grandmother had doted on for over fifty years. Gammy Liza had spent more time maintaining the dusty rose upholstery and polishing the cedar trim than she’d ever devoted to her own family. Leonard had never been invited to sit on it, and he hadn’t cared about the lack of courtesy until he walked in on Sue Ellen necking with the neighborhood asshole, Billy Hickman. He remembered being comforted at the thought of Gammy Liza’s family heirloom sporting a few permanent semen stains.  

Leonard’s eyes fixed on Sue Ellen’s long, lithe legs, admiring the lean muscle that contracted and released with every step. She was an avid tennis player, and her hobby had helped her hone a lovely silhouette that became the envy of every woman in town, including his mother. He’d felt like a king for the three months they were together.  

Sue Ellen stopped about twenty feet from Leonard and stared down at him with guarded eyes. “What’re you doin’ here, Len? I would think seein’ firsthand how Billy has you beat in the manhood department would make it clear that you just aren’t man enough to talk to me.”

Leonard snorted, running shaky hands down his sweaty face. “From what I recall, Sweets, that dainty hand of yours completely engulfed him down to the root. Trust me when I say that isn’t somethin’ a man should be proud of.”

A shaky, bitter laugh spilled from Sue Ellen’s lips, and her blue eyes filled with tears. “If you came here houndin’ for an apology, you’re gonna die waitin’, Leonard McCoy. I meant every word I said.”

“I’m sure you did,” Leonard barked, rising to his feet. “You always liked diggin’ into my skin for attention.”

“Because it was the only way I could get it!” Sue Ellen yelled, stomping her right foot. The heel of her black, kitten pump stabbed into the ground like the claws of an angry alley cat readying itself for a fight. “You spent all of your damn time haunting the halls of your daddy’s clinic, or dotin’ on your mama, when you weren’t in school. You never made time for me, Len!”

“Now that’s a damn lie and you know it!” Leonard snarled. He marched over to the settee lined up against the back wall and dropped his weight onto the overstuffed cushions, right in the center. A hostile spring screamed at the intrusion and stabbed him in his left buttcheek. Leonard ignored the attack and made a show of grinning like a madman. Gammy Liza was probably rolling in her grave in true Southern fashion.  

“ _I’m_ lyin’?” Sue Ellen gasped, spanning her fingertips across her décolletage. “You’ve got to be kiddin’ me.” She crossed her arms across her chest and curled in on herself, blonde curls bouncing angrily in her high ponytail. “You’ve got some nerve makin’ that claim.”

“Oh, come on now, Sweets,” Leonard drawled, crossing his legs. “I wasn’t the one who told you that I couldn’t make it to our anniversary date at the theatre ‘cause I was entertainin’ a cousin from out of town. You and Billy were enjoyin’ yourselves mighty fine before I stopped by and interrupted. I should’ve left the daisy bouquet on your doorstep, but I guess your Gammy wanted to make sure I just didn’t come back.”

“So what if I chose to spend time with Billy? He was always there when you’d blow me off last minute ‘cause somethin’ else come up,” Sue Ellen pouted.

“Was I supposed to leave the sick and dyin’ unattended when they needed treatment, or company - including my own mama? That’s cold, Sue Ellen.”

“Well – I – that was your daddy’s job, Leonard McCoy!”

“Bein’ kind to people and helpin’ the sick is everyone’s job, Sue Ellen. Compassion makes up the core of our humanity, or at least it used to, and compassion is what keeps the darkness from infectin’ people and eatin’ them from the inside out.”

“Well, I needed you, too, Len,” Sue Ellen breathed, her lovely face contorting in anger. “And you’re a damn monster for abandonin’ me like an unwanted dog!”

Leonard sighed, dropping his head back against the wooden frame. He stared at Sue Ellen for a long moment, his heart heavy in his chest. “I never meant to make you feel unwanted, Sweets,” he began, uncrossing his legs. “But every flower species needs a specific type of care, and lookin’ back now, well, it’s obvious we just weren’t a good match. You need someone to rotate you in the sun every day, and I, well, I need someone who is strong enough to bear some heat.”

“That’s why you’re never going to be happy! And you don’t deserve to be! I already told you this!”

Leonard stood up from his seat and walked over toward Sue Ellen. He reached out and touched the point of her elbow with a sympathetic touch. “I know you’re angry with me, but cursin’ me isn’t goin’ to help anythin’.” He pulled away, taking in a steadying breath. “Everybody deserves to be happy, Sue Ellen, and I hope you find it one day. You deserve to be pampered like a lady, even though you have some sharp thorns lining you from head to toe. I didn’t get to tell you before ‘cause I was too hurt and angry, but I can tell you now.”

His lips curled upwards into a soft smile, and he offered Sue Ellen a nod of farewell. “One day, I’ll stumble across a little patch of sunshine myself.” Leonard chuckled. He turned toward the exit and continued talking without looking back. “And who knows? I might dare to sit down for a while and take a little breather, see what all the fuss is about.”

“You’re ready now, _LeoLeo_.”

Leonard froze, one step away from the door. He slowly turned his head. “Ayla?”

“Hello,” Ayla giggled, waving her slim hand. She was about ten years older than Leonard remembered, which was impossible. An iridescent glow covered her lilac skin, fueled by the soft light emanating from the torches lining the cave walls. Each torch was carved from the bones of tribe kills, etched with prayers for the gods worshiped by the Fallyn people. Leonard had found them beautiful despite their macabre background. Their presence now only fueled the panic dancing in his heart.

“What are you doing here?”

“Your heart is troubled, _Leoleo_ , so I came to help,” she explained, gliding toward an empty hammock hanging from the ceiling. She shifted her wavy, cerise hair to one side before sitting down, pooling the ankle-length tresses beside her slim hip. The color was a sharp contrast to Ayla’s white dress.     

“I…beg your pardon?” Leonard looked around the room, noting that they were standing in the equivalent of a hospital ward according to the Fallyn culture.

Ayla sighed, resting her hands in her lap. “I know what troubles you,” she revealed. The stare from her silver eyes was heavy, almost as hefty as the gaze Leonard had managed to endure from Jim.

“What would that be?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“You wish to join your heart with others, but you do not feel worthy.”

“I – how – now that’s private, young lady. I’m not discussin’ my love life, or lack of, with a child.”

“But I am no child,” Ayla smiled, carding her fingers through her hair. “I may appear young to your human eyes, _LeoLeo_ , but I have lived about one hundred and twelve years of human life.”

“But I treated you not even a week ago, and you were small enough to carry in one arm!” Leonard exclaimed, stepping closer. “I laid you in your sick bed myself!”

“This is true,” Ayla giggled. “But, _Leoleo_ , you have yet to unravel our biology in full, so you were not aware that I was...diminishing.”

“Diminishing?”

“It is a process that occurs when Fallyns lose their connection to the _palapala_ , the people,” Ayla explained, playing with the ends of her hair. “Our bodies revert back to a form when we knew happiness. It is a last attempt to weave our _agaga,_ our spirit, back into the energy of our people. If the process fails, we fade from this life.”

She exhaled, and the weight of the breath pushed against Leonard’s heart. “I was at the end of this process when you found me, _Leoleo_.” She paused, digging her toes into the black sand. Ayla pushed against the soil, causing the hammock to swing. “You tried to heal me physically, but you did not know my spirit was already halfway into the lands of _Lagi_ , the otherworld.”

“That’s why you weren’t respondin’ to the medicine,” Leonard breathed, running a hand down his mouth.

“You have great healing gifts, but it was not until you called out to my spirit that I found the courage to journey back.”

“You heard me?”

“Yes,” Ayla smiled, her gaze internally locked on a vision only she could see. “I was walking along the riverbank, preparing for my journey to cross the bridge into _Lagi_ , when your voice broke through the silence of my meditation.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I tried to ignore you, but you are most…persistent.

Leonard snorted. “So I’ve been told.”

“I was intrigued by the fire in your voice, so I lingered. My family has long passed, and there was no one to perform the ritual of _Manava_ , the sharing of breath _._ But you, _Leoleo_ , you dared to gift me with hope despite not sharing blood with me.”

“I’m a doctor, Ayla. My job is to take care of everyone.”

Silver eyes pinned Leonard in place. “Does ‘everyone’ not include you?”

“I, well, see - now that’s not the issue here!” Leonard groused, crossing his arms.

“But it is,” Ayla smiled. “You are deserving of love.” She closed her eyes. “The goddess Alofa declares it so. She told me.”

“Pardon?”

Ayla waved toward the bone torch sitting near the hammock. It was covered in elegant writing framed by etchings of native flowers, and a lone cat. “I stood at the end of the river, debating if I should retrace my steps, or accept a life-gift from a stranger. Alofa appeared before me, accompanied by her feline companion, Filemu. She revealed the life-gift you offered was not just for me, but also for others like me, especially the orphans.”

Ayla opened her eyes. “Alofa told me that if I accepted your _Manava_ offering, that I could pass it on and help others connect back with the _palapala_. I could become mother to all _Leiloa_ , the lost ones, who know nothing but loneliness. I could help them push back the sadness. Alofa helped me see that your life-gift was a contribution of hope for all Fallyn people, and it should not be wasted.”

A contented sigh spilled from Ayla’s lips as she stood from her seat and walked toward Leonard. The energy filled the space between Leonard and Ayla like a shapeless balloon before exploding, shooting contentment into the atmosphere like invisible confetti. “I turned back, I followed your voice, and when I awoke, I embraced my people.”

Ayla reached out and briefly pressed her fingertips against Leonard’s chest, over his heart. “The life-gift marks us as family even after we pass from this plane of existence, _Leoleo_. As long as I breathe, your hope lives among the Fallyn, but the flame will not die out with me. Before I diminish to the _Lagi_ , I will tuck it into the heart of someone worthy, and hope will endure.”

“I come from a place where people are recognized for the good deeds they perform,” Leonard offered, uncrossing his arms. “You alone made the choice to take care of your people, Ayla. All I did was heal your body.”

Ayla tilted her head, wrinkling her nose. The gold freckles sprinkled across her face glittered in the candlelight, twinkling like distant stars dancing on the horizon. “You have the power to heal souls, _Leoleo_ , but you choose to neglect your own.” She leaned forward, whispering, “That’s why I am here to help you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The _matagofie_ I gave you, the charm of friendship, is a tie to Filemu. Our people say that Filemu’s power is so strong that when she hears a story that weighs down her heart, she can reach into the universe and rearrange its constellation with one claw.”

Leonard removed the charm from his pocket and cradled it in his palm. “What does that have to do with me?” he breathed.

“Before I turned back from the river, Alofa whispered a secret in my ear. She told me that Filemu sat with you while you stood vigil beside me, and while you sat in silence, she read your heart. She was moved by the sadness you carry within you, and so she weaved a gift in the universe.”

“I don’t understand any of this, Ayla.” Leonard breathed, wrapping his fingers around the charm in his hand. It felt hot and heavy in his palm. He tucked the charm back in his pocket.

“One does not need to understand a gift to receive it,” Ayla whispered, cupping Leonard’s face. She stepped into his space and pressed her lips against his. Leonard felt the pressure against his mouth, the weight lighter than a firefly’s shadow. His eyes fluttered closed, and he reached up and covered Ayla’s hands with his own. White light suddenly filled his head, banishing every thought from his mind. Leonard pulled back, and it felt as though his limbs were wading through a vat of molasses. The moment passed, and he pushed up into familiar warmth. He took in a sharp inhale, steadying his balance.

“Bones? Are you all right?”

“Jim?” Leonard wheezed. He opened his eyes and nearly felt his heart stop in his chest. He was with Jim, and they were on the ship, standing in his office. He tightened his hands around Jim’s. “What’s goin’ on here? What are we doin’ here?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jim chuckled. “Surely my question isn’t that frightening.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Leonard snapped, blinking eyes owlishly. “What question?”

Jim paused, sweeping an adoring gaze across Leonard’s face. “Well, now, I believe I asked if you’re aware of the regard that Spock and I have for you?”

Leonard stilled. His brain was scrambled, but he had enough marbles still lined in a row to listen to the instinct beating his back like a Southern Baptist preacher invoking the Holy Ghost. “I – we all should probably sit down and talk about things, don’t you think, Jim-boy?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Jim smiled, touching the corners of Leonard’s mouth with the pads of his thumbs. “Spock and I are due to attend an overnight conference in Vervain. We won’t be back until tomorrow. Perhaps we can all dine together?”

“Dinner tomorrow sounds good,” Leonard swallowed.

“How about dinner together the tomorrow following tomorrow, and perhaps the one after that?”

“Sure, Jim, that sounds fine,” Leonard snorted. “You can have all my tomorrows.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, mister.” Jim withdrew his hands from Leonard’s face and stepped toward the door.

“Wait,” Leonard called out. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the charm housed within. “Take this with you – for luck.”

“That’s rather out of the ordinary, Bones,” Jim smiled, tucking the charm in his pocket. “But I’ll keep it safe until I return.”

“Yes, well, you best go on before Mr. Spock comes and drags you to the transporter himself.”

“What are your plans for today?”

“Oh, I think I’m goin’ to take a nap after my shift – a long one.”

“Another anomaly,” Jim chuckled, shaking his head. “I assume you’ll be well rested for dinner.”

“Tomorrow,” Leonard offered, giving Jim a small nod. He watched Jim leave, feeling déjà vu scratching against his skin. He sat in his chair, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the overstuffed headrest. He felt scattered, the type of confusion that resulted from intense sickness. Leonard opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He traced the random swirl pattern in the ceiling tiles, a feature he’d never really paid attention to before.

There were distinctive marks clustered together, golden dots and lines that reminded Leonard of the star charts that Mr. Spock kept housed in his work area. “Well, look at that,” he smiled. “I’ve discovered a new constellation to share with Jim and Spock.”

**Author's Note:**

> Samoan Translation:  
> Leoleo: Guardian  
> Palapala: Earth/Dirt  
> Agaga: Soul/Spirit  
> Lagi: Heaven  
> Manava: breath  
> Alofa: love  
> Matagofie: Charm  
> Filemu: Peace


End file.
